


BRANDS

by Miss_de_lua



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:29:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18120734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_de_lua/pseuds/Miss_de_lua
Summary: Possessing control of his life was not something associated with Hadassa Branwell. Created from a child to be dependent due to her condition after an accident, the girl was the shadow hunter considered weaker among the Clave's bad languages, which caused year after year the shame of the young woman and her family, especially her father . But when his older brother, Henry Branwell, becomes the new director of the London Institute along with his wife, Charlotte Fairchild, the life of Hadassa changes. The younger Branwell not only becomes the Institute's newest resident, but also becomes the target of the looks and heart of James Carstairs, the only person whom Hadassa did not care to be dependent on, but unfortunately, she would have to learn to give up when death comes.Jem Carstairs x oc





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, Angels! This is the first fanfic I write about The Infernal Devices, just as it is my first time writing in English (it is not my language). So take it easy! Anyway, thank you very much for reading. If you like, leave a comment to encourage me. Good reading, folks!

The SAPATILHAS roses were playing the floor while the little girl rodopied around the room. The light that entered through the open window produced a remarkable contrast with the red - Hadassa Branwell wires, the little girl who was revolving frantically, imagining the mellow piano Mellody in his head.

When his eyes opened and dizziness hit him, the young Shadow Hunter stopped abruptly, staggering up to the end of his bed. His legs have given her way to collapse right there, panting. His heart beat as fast as the wings of a butterfly that once turns, though, the little spark of happiness in her chest was latent. It didn't matter that you were stuck in your room since the night before, so much less that you felt the brink of a fainting. No weakness could not take away the joy that I felt, joy that I've been tracking her in exactly a week.

More specifically, Hadassa was transfred from allergy by his elder brother's wedding, Henry Branwell. The girl was the same, of course, after a lot of her mother's insistence to her husband, though, she attended and out of stupendous. Your brother seemed happy, the same was beginning to form a family and yet there were Charlotte... Hadassa liked the woman, much more than that, admired her for her Valentine. But the reason your happiness wasn't just that one, No. The reason that such a feeling was a week later, exactly that morning where a letter had arrived addressed to the young lady, about the Buford Branwell protests. And then she knew, her life would change.

Spraying happily, Hadassa had moved up into the room slowly, ignoring her parents' argument. He had slipped the sneakers in the bottom of the trunk and put them on, beginning to whirl around the room, the skirt of his dress spinning according to the girl. The smile on his face was his greatest testimony that something good had happened in his life, the open window was an evident sign of the desired freedom and the light that penetrated the environment snaked through the darkness in which she had been for years. But of course, they were just metaphors in his imagination. However, happiness was real. Even though her frail body was sagging in bed, her eyes closing as fatigue from the effort reached her, she was radiant.

Because that morning, Hadassa Branwell had been summoned to live at the London Institute with his brother. Even if I didn't fully know the importance of that decision, the young woman felt something that would change her life permanently. Anyway, that's what she expected.


	2. 01. The new inhabitant of the Institute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hadassa arrives at the London Institute, where the same is received by his older brother Henry Branwell and his wife - Charlotte Fairchild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, angels! I'm excited for this first chapter, hope you enjoy it. A warning: the number at the beginning of the chapter represents the age of Hadassah. Please remember that my official language is not English. Some words may lose meaning while reading, sorry. Anyway, good reading!

  +12

THE EMPTY FEELING was astonishing to Hadassa as the chariot stopped at its destination. The chill in her belly confused the girl's head, which she tried to call as expectation or fear.

The day had been cloudy in the usual London, which contributed to the young woman's perfect setting of solitude. That day was also the beginning of her new life as she said goodbye to her parents, a strangely tearless farewell on her part. On the other hand, Elizabeth Branwell had wept with her youngest sister, being rebuked by her husband, Buford Branwell. Her father had been indifferent to her daughter's departure, patting her shoulder and pushing her toward the door, as if encouraging her. Little Branwell thought she should not be surprised at his lack of tears in his farewell as he watched for the last - by the Angel, she hoped it was. - once to the house where she had been a prisoner of her own life.

Sitting inside the carriage listening to the driver getting down the same, Hadassa knew he shouldn't have such thoughts. However, she couldn't help it! I was so happy to have the opportunity to revisit your brother, at the same time as the possibility of freedom as a common girl at least the freedom that girls your age had in that time... made your heart gallop out of control. However, the void played along with the other emotions, competing for space at that time.

She knew the justification: she was saying goodbye to a life she had been forced to live. Yet it was all he knew, it was what he had been taught to be, but mostly, everything he knew formed what Hadassa was: a dependent person. When the driver opened the carriage door, the young redhead was quite certain of the reason for the emptiness, she was afraid. The immeasurable fear of disappointing her brother when he proved that she was only a weak and dependent little girl, which would contribute to his return to the house. That yes, it was her greatest fear, to be held captive in her weakness.

Thoughts have evaporated from his mind when the driver's hand stretched out to help her get down the carriage. Gracefully as had been taught by his mother, Hadassa accepted help, descending carefully immediately. His eyes ran across the yard looking for his brother's figure, however, deception reached when his eyes found the image of a short woman, the expression that changed the moment his eyes found the figure of Hadassa, opening a sincere smile. Charlotte.

Smiling grateful to the driver of the car of the cart of the own p1171 Institute, Hadassa, had a 12 - year - old, taken care of, taking care of the care not to stumble in the dress while Thomas was following his side, taking his bags. Apparently, Henry or Charlotte had asked the man to make the Redhead not to try, which led her to be grateful and upset at the same time. It was uncontrollable to both sensations when it was his condition.

Charlotte Fairchild, now Branwell, opened arms when his sister - in - law stood in front of her, hugging her affectionately. Hadassa smiled, feeling grateful for your brother married someone who liked it so much.

— Welcome, Hadassa! I'm glad to have you here, like you re? — Charlotte asked, dropping the girl.

Hadassa sighted, the smile dropping. She could only be a child, but she could very well notice the light of women's nerves as well as the discreet looks that the same cast to her side. The Redhead assumed that it was where your brother should be. For a moment, Hadassa wanted to hug you again.

—I thank you, Aunt Charlotte. — the smile of the Elder, if you alarm when the girl called you.— I'm very well, actually. Can I say the same about my brother?

The director of the Instituto remained silent for a moment, watching the arched eyebrow of the younger in questioning. Of course, Hadassa Branwell didn't miss the opportunity to know the little details.

— He's fine. Locked in his office, but well —a sigh escaped from Charlotte lips as if he was exhausted. Your next step was to hold the hand of redhead — very well, how about we go see him? I'm sure Henry hasn T forgotten his arrival, he's just... late.

Hadassa nodded, even though he knew that was not the truth. Henry Branwell possessed several qualities, but one of his greatest faults was to be fumbling and distracted. By the Angel, even little Hadassa could be more responsible than he on some occasions. So, pushing the feeling of loneliness and disappointment into the background, the young woman held firmly in the older woman's hand, entering the Institute upon realizing that during the conversation with her sister-in-law, Thomas had taken his bags in.

— He's building something, isn t he?

The board of the Institute observed the redhead closely, lips pressed in a line, brow furrowed. Maybe Charlotte was looking for the best way to tell the truth, but Hadassa did not need it. She liked sincerity on occasions like the one that hurt. Anything was better than a lie, or even an illusion. And the younger Branwell knew it.

— You're testing, honey. But don't worry, it S nothing dangerous this time. Or something that starts a fire.

Hadassa laughed, remembering the many ideas his brother had developed. There was one in question that made Hadassa body freeze to remember, so she ceased her laughter, then fell silent as her eyes captured the image of the Institute's living room. It was rustic and spacious, something he had always imagined when he read the books Henry had concealed from his parents. The beauty of that place did not fit into mere words from Hadassa limited dictionary, but she struggled to believe that it was real. That from there, that would be his house.

— Honey? Honey, I'm so sorry! I was busy setting up my new project ... It's wonderful! A true innovation that could change people's perspective on ... Why are these ties so difficult? It does not matter, Charlotte, we have to wait ... — A man's figure with the ginger red wires appeared at the start of the stairwell. The unconventional spectacles would hang up on your nose, the tie tie wrapped around your neck. Your eyes stopped at the little redhead in the middle of the room. —... Hadassa. 

She laughed as Henry Branwell hurried down the steps. She threw herself into his arms when he came close enough, wrapping him in a tight embrace full of emotions. The familiar scent of rust struck her along with the sense of protection as his arms circled her. Hadassa wanted to cry with relief at the same time he wanted to laugh with happiness. Anyway, I was at home.

— I'm sorry, but you re a little late.

— Anjo! I'm sorry, had, I was busy. — He spun the young lady, ripping off the same laughter. — Not that my projects are more important than you, but you understand...

— It's all right, Henry! You're here now. — Hadassa has declared himself to move away, squeezing his brother's hand in a comforting gesture.

Henry smiled, the cheeks of the color of his hair when he noticed the reproach of his wife. Hadassa held the laugh, alternating eyes between the two, watching them watch. She was looking at the two people who teach her everything to go forward. What was a very important role, of course.

Charlotte waited for the brothers to come to the end to take the Lead:

— All right, Hadassa. What do you think about meeting the other residents? Agatha and shopie are waiting to meet the new resident of Instituto.

The girl settled, she was afraid. Interagir with people was not your forte visa that spent more time locked in your room than talking to the others. However, when I noticed the expectations in Henry's eyes for her to interact with other people, she couldn t disagree. Loved Henry too much to disappoint him, besides, was enough to be a disappointment to his parents.

— Of course! Lead the way, dear couple.


End file.
